Bonding
by Floydgoneawry
Summary: Maka learns to match Soul wavelengths and we get an insight into how a young reaper bonds with his weapons. By the way, this will be the only warning I give: some heavy content is ahead.
1. Curiousity

Maka Albarn picked up the small bag that she had cast  
aside so many months ago.

Curiosity had gotten the better of her and she was now  
hesitantly pulling the two strips of cloth from the bag and  
held them up in front of her so she could view them in the  
mirror.

She stood there a moment, still a little wet from her  
evening shower, conflicted by her two sides. Part of her  
was growing more and more agitated at the thought of  
her father picking such garments with her in mind, another  
part was a strange desire to wear them.

After looking around to make sure she was alone, Maka  
opened her robe and tried the pieces on. She looked at  
herself in the mirror, turning slowly to examine her scantily  
clad form.

'I suppose I don't look too bad . . . I wish I were a little  
rounder here . . . and fuller here.'

Two light knocks came at her door. "Maka, you in there?"  
came Soul Eater's muffled voice.

"Yes!" Maka called back, frightened by the sudden  
interruption, "Just a moment!"

She put on and closed her robe and tied the sash tightly.

"You can come in."

Soul opened the door slowly, still expecting to find his  
meister indecent in some way and wary of her violent  
attacks.

"Hey, are you alright?"

She looked at him with the sad eyes she always wore for  
him when she wanted to stay strong.

"I'm fine."

There was an awkward silence between the two before  
Soul spoke up again.

"You know you can talk to me if you want. I don't know if I  
can fix it, but I can still listen."

Maka nodded her head and gave him a thin smile.

Soul said goodnight and silently closed the door.

It was true. Nothing was particularly wrong but the  
problem still existed. The problem that had lead to her  
trying on the outfit.

"_What can I do to help me become stronger?" she asked Lord  
Death with her head bowed the day before as she stood in  
the Death Room._

"_You're already doing everything you can for now. Let that be  
enough."_

"_What do you mean 'Everything I can for now?' Is there some  
reaper trick that Kid's doing to help him bond with Liz and  
Patti? Please, tell me. I'll do anything! I don't want Soul to get  
hurt again!" her voice cracked as she remained bowed.  
_

_Death let out a sigh and looked down a little before replying._

"_I suppose you are old enough to understand. I want to put  
this delicately. Oh, how should I say it? . . . There's a reason  
some of the best weapon and meister pairings have been  
married."_

_Maka still looked confused._

"_Or, if not married, at least in a relationship."_

_Still no reaction._

"_A physical relationship."_

_A blank stare._

"_Dancing is a good way to match Soul wavelengths. And they  
say dancing is a vertical expression . . ."_

_The young meister gradually realized what the Reaper had  
been hinting at all along. Maka slowly rose to her full height  
while making some uneasy gestures with her hands.  
_

"_Y-y-you mean . . ."_

"_Yes . . . some of the finest meisters could match  
wavelengths with their partners because they were in a  
relationship. Their bonds strengthened by it."_

"_Are Kid, Liz, and Patti in that kind of . . ."_

"_Well . . . their relationship is a bit different, my dear."_


	2. Binding I

When he first heard it, he thought it was a trick of the  
mind.

Just like the times before when he thought he heard it.

But, this time, the noise continued to grow.

It began as a muffled rumble and became louder and  
louder with each passing second until it rang through the  
halls clearly.

The sharp staccato of the stiletto heel as it touched the  
stone floor followed by the immediate click from the toe.

The echoes became a roaring chorus to the steady  
footsteps that approached.

It came closer and closer to the young reaper tied to the  
slanted wooden rack.

His rack.

He had been forced to construct the whole thing himself  
during their first session. He nailed two by fours together  
for a table-like surface before attaching the shackles on  
each end that would hold him in place for hours. The frame  
it was mounted to allowed complete control over the angle  
of the rack. The familiar wooden surface was rough against  
his back and legs as he braced for the inevitable.

Death the Kid's breathing became heavier and heavier as  
he waited for her.

He knew who it would be, but still began panting in  
anticipation. His nude body trembled against the cold air at  
the thought of what lie ahead. The black satin hood over  
his head that kept him blind grew and receded as he  
released each puff of air.

The footsteps stopped right in front of him. He heard the  
click of a lighter and a gentle inhale.

The hood was finally pulled off and he flinched when the  
light hit his dilated pupils. The gloomy dungeon offered  
little for him to see, especially with the bright light shining  
over him, obscuring anything behind the perimeter of its  
glow.

"Hello, Kid," she said in a laconic tone before she blew a  
thick puff of smoke into his face.

He flinched again and coughed out his response.

"Hello, Liz."

A few seconds passed as Elizabeth Thompson, the older of  
the Thompson sisters and currently dressed all in black,  
took another long drag on the cigarette between her lips.  
The light from above dully reflected off the leather jacket  
she wore over her cotton tank top. A modest amount of  
midriff was visible between that and her tight leather  
skirt. The brim of a military cap decorated with a skull  
and crossbones was pulled low over her glaring eyes.

"Do you know why I'm upset?"

"Yes . . . yes, Liz, I know why," the subdued Kid answered.

"Why, Kid?" she asked as she took out another cigarette  
and proceeded to light it with the remains of the first.

"Because I left you and Patti in the tomb today."

"Very good, Kid," she said as she put the first cigarette out  
on his chest. She did it right over his heart so the burn  
would not upset the symmetry of his body. She believed in  
taking her torture one step at a time.

Asymmetry would come later.

"THANK YOU! THANK YOU, LIZ! THANK YOUUUUUUUUUU!"  
Kid screamed through gritted teeth as he squirmed against  
the red hot tip.

"A mummy slobbered on me. Do you know what it feels like  
to have someone drool all over you?"

She did not let him answer before she took the cigarette in  
hand, stuck her tongue out, and let a thin trail of saliva drip  
onto his face. She took another puff of smoke.

"Now," Liz began as she pulled her cigarette from her  
mouth, "how shall I– open," Kid opened his mouth for her  
and she dropped the gray ash on his tongue, "how shall I  
punish you?"

She said this more as a musing to herself then as a  
question for Kid.

"I could take care of that hair for you. I bet you wouldn't  
worry about it if you were bald."

The Kid said nothing, but his eyes flickered as if he were  
about to cry.

"I know. I'll start by taking what means the most to you."

Liz slapped his left cheek as hard as she could with her  
leather-gloved hand. The cushion only prevented the  
stinging sensation but made it easier for the girl to hit him  
harder.

After the initial shock faded, She landed another to his  
right cheek.

Liz repeated this again and again, alternating between the  
two sides until she returned to his right cheek for the  
seventh blow. His head was reeling from the painful strikes.

After that, she stopped. She took the cigarette from her  
mouth and let it fall to the ground where she crushed it out  
with the toe of her thigh-high leather boot.

"AGAIN, LIZ! ONE MORE! PLEASE, LIZ! I NEED EIGHT!"

Liz gave him a slight smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry Kid. How could I have been so careless?"

She reached up and landed another firm slap to his right  
cheek again.

Kid opened his eyes as big pools of water welled up in  
them.

"Why? Why would you do that?" he whimpered.

Liz lit another cigarette and leaned against him.

"Because you're asymmetrical trash. You're dirty reaper  
scum. You don't deserve to live."

Tears began pouring down his face and his panting  
became pathetically laboured.

Liz caressed his cheek before leaning in to give him a firm  
but tender kiss. He could taste the cigarettes on her  
breath as she forced her tongue past his lips.

"I'll be back to deal with you some more later."

She turned to leave him, but fired one parting shot.

"By the way, Kid, most guys have one testicle that hangs  
lower than the other," she looked back over her left  
shoulder, "I wonder which one it is for you."

She continued her walk as her words sank in.

"Wait! Come back!"

She could hear him struggling against the binds and the  
loud banging as he slammed his body against the wood.

"Come back, Liz! Come back! Please, Liz! Please! Don't leave  
me like this! CUT THEM OFF! MAKE ME CLEAN! LIZ! LIZ!  
LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIZ!" 


	3. Binding II

He knew the sound of her joyful skipping the moment it  
began.

The loud crashing through the halls let him know that she  
would be there in just a few more seconds.

"Hi, Kid!" Patricia Thompson gleefully shouted when she  
entered the room. The girl immediately wrapped her hands  
around his neck and kissed him; letting her tongue playfully  
dart in, out, and around his mouth. This one was dressed in  
black as well, but a little more casually. She wore a tube  
top, baggy cargo pants, and a pair of sneakers.

"Patti! Patti, please! Please, you have to slap me!" Kid  
managed once he pulled away and took a deep breath.

"I don't know, Kid," Patti began as she placed her finger to  
her cheek, "Sis' told me to be nice to you and I think hitting  
you would be mean."

"NO! No it wouldn't, Patti! It would be nice! It would be the  
nicest thing you could ever do for me!"

Patti came up and leaned against him.

"But wouldn't it hurt?" she asked as she ran a finger along  
his chest.

"It's okay, just do it! Slap me on the left cheek please! A  
nice firm slap!"

The shorter Thompson sister hesitated for a moment, but  
gave him the slap he had longed for for such a long time.

"Good, that was really good, Patti," Kid panted as he  
enjoyed the slight relief that came over him, "That  
completes the first set of eight. Now, starting on my left  
cheek again, I need you to slap me seven more times.  
Alternate after each slap."

She did just as he asked, alternating between his left and  
right cheek until she finished that set.

"That was really good, Patti. Now I need you to do eight  
alternating slaps. I need six sets of eight. Please, Patti.  
Please do this."

Patti stepped back, interlocked her fingers, and stretched  
her arms forward to crack each one.

"Don't worry, I'm on the job, Kid!"

Kid closed his eyes and counted each one happily. A  
growing ecstasy filled him as she came closer and closer to  
the final one continued to swell in him.

He was in tears when she finally finished the last set.

"Thank you, Patti! Thank you so much!"

Patti looked at him a little confused, but she knew that Kid  
had some weird compulsions so she just let him be.

"I need something else, Patti," he said, recovering from the  
pleasant feeling he just experienced.

"What is it?"

"Can you tell me which testicle is hanging lower?"

"What?"

"MY TESTICLES! WHICH HANGS LOWER?"

Patti took a moment to stare at him but hesitantly leaned  
over to examine his believed deformity.

"The right one by the looks of it."

"Okay, Patti, come here. Lean in close."

She played along so he could whisper into her ear.

"I need you to cut them off."

Patti jumped back.

"That definitely wouldn't be nice, Kid!"

"Please, Patti!" he begged. "You have to! I can't live my life  
like this! I can't live like an asymmetrical freak of nature!"

"Wouldn't you be more of a freak without them?"

"I don't care! Please, Patti."

Seeing how distressed the whole ordeal made him, Patti  
crouched down and took a small knife from her pocket.  
She opened the blade and touched the sharp edge to his  
scrotum.

Kid braced himself for the worst.

Just then, Patti reached up and slapped him across the  
right cheek.

Kid looked down, shocked and hurt.

Patti looked up at him in that special way of hers.

"Did you really think I would just do whatever you want?  
You left me in a tomb today, damn you."

She stood up and put away the knife.

"Wait, Patti! You can't leave me like this!"

"You're right, Kid. Maybe you wouldn't worry if they were  
inside your body."

Without another word, she swiftly kneed him in the crotch.

Patti walked away as Kid writhed in pain and agony from  
his asymmetrically slapped cheeks and crushed testicles.

'Dammit Patti, I hate you. I really, truly hate you.'


	4. Binding III

They had The Kid on his knees in front of them, his hands  
bound behind his back. Liz held the leash that attached to  
the collar of the young boy who was now completely  
crestfallen.

"Look at him, Patti. Isn't he the most pathetic thing you've  
ever seen?"

"He does look pretty rough."

"What should we do to mess with him? Shave off one  
eyebrow? No, he'd probably shave the other one off once  
we were through."

"I can't think of anything he wouldn't fix the moment we let  
him go."

"Maybe we can do something to benefit us."

"What do you mean, Sis'?"

Liz looked at Kid with a narrowed brow.

"You know, Kid, once we each get enough souls one of us  
is going to become a death scythe before the other."

Kid cringed and squirmed against the ties.

"NO! WE'LL FIND TWO WITCHES TO DEFEAT TOGETHER!"

"Are you sure? We don't know that we can do that."

"YES! YES WE CAN!"

Patti suddenly turned to her sister.

"You know, there's something else we need to tell him."

"Oh, yeah."

Liz looked at Kid again and stroked his cheek gently.

"We lied. One of use actually has seven more souls than  
the other."

"WHAT?"

Kid shook and struggled harder then he had before.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO NOW! WE NEED TO GO FIND MORE  
SOULS! WE NEED TO GO NOW! WHICH ONE OF YOU IS IT?"

Liz chose to start playing with the short strands of his hair.

"Like we'd tell you. It looks like you'll just have to work  
harder and harder at making us death scythes so you can  
find out."

He looked down again and began to cry.

"Oh, get over it, Kid," Liz said as she tugged at the leash,  
"I have to pee."

Without being told to, Kid tilted his head back, opened his  
mouth, and stuck out his tongue; ready to accept her.

She lifted her skirt to reveal her panty-less body  
underneath. Liz straddled his face comfortably and relieved  
herself.

"You take this way too seriously," she said as she  
continued her business. "You need to learn to let things go.  
This way you can live your life normally and NOT LEAVE US  
IN SCARY TOMBS!"

She finished and waited for him to swallow the rest.

"Now clean me up."

He did just that and then looked over to the blonde.

"Now Patti," Kid whispered.

"OKAY!" Patti agreed with a raised hand and happy smile.

"No."

Kid looked up at Liz.

"I just realized, this could be what he struggles to fix  
over the next few days. Yes, I think I'll enjoy that. Knowing  
that Kid is going to be running around trying to drink Patti's  
piss. Are you gonna beg her for it? Will you whine, 'Please,  
oh please, Patti, let me be your toilet,' until she does? This  
is going to be so much fun."

Kid wanted to say something, but had no voice to do so.

Liz bent over to stroke his cheek in her comforting way.

"Don't worry, Kid. I still love you . . . you just need to learn  
to stop pissing me off."

Patti got on her knees and wrapped her arms around his  
neck

"And once you make us death scythes we'll finally let you  
see us naked."

She looked to her sister.

"Can I do it now, Sis'? Can I?"

Liz lit a cigarette and thought for a moment.

"Okay, but ruin it for him."

Patti moved behind him and spat into her hands before  
wrapping her arms around his waist to reach his crotch.

"One set of blue balls comin' up!"


	5. Cat Toy

_"Tsubaki, I have something serious to ask you," Maka said as  
she and her friend sat on the roof after school._

_"What is it, Maka?"_

_"I know Black Star is always trying to get better at matching  
wavelengths with you and . . . I know you both share one  
bedroom. Has anything . . . happened between you two?"_

_Tsubaki blushed a little and looked away._

_"No . . . of course not."_

_From where she sat, Maka could not tell if her friend was  
blushing out of embarrassment or frustration._

'But I don't feel _that_ way about him,' she thought to  
herself. 'Do I?'

She paced back and forth for a few minutes as she  
weighed her thoughts.

'That's for people who are in love . . . we're not in love . . .  
he's just my partner . . . He doesn't feel that way about  
me . . . I don't know if he doesn't feel that way about  
me . . . he did almost die for of me . . . but he almost died  
_because_ of me . . . but, then again, that's his job . . . but he  
doesn't have to do that . . . but that wasn't the only  
time . . . but there's that way he holds me . . . but that  
could just be a natural reaction . . . why is this so hard?  
. . . Do I have to love him for that?'

She sat down on her bed.

'Did I love him before that? . . .'

'. . . would he love me back?'

During this time, Blair was lounging lazily at the foot of  
Soul's bed. When he returned she decided to play a  
game.

Once he fell onto his bed she transformed quickly into her  
human state. She wore her witch hat and bikini that she  
chose whenever she decided to be particularly playful with  
him.

"I've been thinking," she said as she straddled him, "I  
know you don't want to leave that girlie, but I you could at  
least let me hold you."

Soul did not hear much of this sentence since the rapid  
blood loss made him light-headed.

"Oh, come on! I know you can hold on long enough to hear  
me out!"

"I don't think that's a good idea," he groaned as he tried to  
cling to his last bit of consciousness.

"It's not a big deal. Come on. It's not too much for any girl  
to ask, is it? I just want to feel your long, stiff pole in my  
hands. Oh!"

Blair looked down and a sly grin covered her face.

"It looks like I'm feeling your pole right now."

Soul regained his composure and replied angrily, "Get off  
me!"

"Don't you think you owe me this one little favour?"

"How do you figure?"

"After all, you did eat me up only on our fourth date."

Soul blushed a little.

"Did I taste good?"

He looked away.

"Did this little pussy taste good?"

He still said nothing.

"Just let me hold you." She ran her finger up his chest. "I  
promise to be gentle."

Soul decided it would be easier to give her this one request  
than to ignore her.

"Okay, let me up and I'll do it."

"Oh, goody!" she exclaimed as she bounced to her feet.

Blair stood over his bed and, with a quick flash of light, Soul  
transformed. His light shot up into the air and shifted into  
his scythe form. He came down slowly and Blair put her  
hands out to catch him.

"You're so heavy. OW!"

Blair dropped him to the floor and started looking at her  
own hands now burning from his touch.

"Yeah, that happens," Soul said from where he was on the  
floor, "If Souls don't sync up it's impossible for the meister  
to wield the weapon."

He changed back to his human form.

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Blair turned her nose up to him at stalked away.

"Who wants to use a silly piece of farm equipment for a  
weapon anyway?"


	6. Bonding

Soul was about to crawl into bed now that the excitement  
was over.

He lifted off his shirt to get comfortable and turned around  
to see his meister, who had silently entered his room, was  
standing behind him. Soul was frozen with his arms still  
tangled in his shirt above his head. Before he could say a  
word, she had opened her robe to let him see her evening  
attire before dropping her outer covering on the floor  
behind her.

Soul's eyes widened at the sight and Maka pushed him  
down to the bed.

"M-M-Ma-Maka?"

He moved away so that he was seated against the wall  
which felt cold against his bare back. He struggled to get  
his arms out of the shirt.

"Your nose isn't bleeding," Maka said with some dismay;  
her lips in a pout as she looked at him. "Does that mean  
you don't like me?"

He hastily shook his head.

"May I join you?"

He nodded and Maka climbed on to her weapon's lap.

Soul stared at Maka's face, unsure of where he should be  
looking at that time. Maka smiled at him as she focused  
on stroking his white hair.

"Do you remember when I was stuck in the madness?" she  
asked, still interested in the short locks in between her  
fingers.

"Y-yes."

"Do you know what I saw when I was in there looking for  
Crona's Soul?"

"N-n-no."

"I saw your Soul," she said, "it's about the size of your  
head. Did you know that? It's also a little beat up and  
jagged around the edges, but do you know what?"

Maka leaned in close so she could whisper into his ear.

"I think it's the most beautiful Soul I have ever seen."

She felt his entire body stiffen after she said that and the  
young girl decided to take her act further.

"Do you know what I did to your Soul when I found it?"  
she asked, once again looking into his eyes.

He kept his eyes locked on hers, but he carefully shook his  
head 'no.'

Maka let out a tiny laugh and then answered.

"I held it," she said, "right here."

With that, Maka brought Soul Eater's head to her chest  
with both hands.

'Maka . . .' Soul's thoughts came to him in broken strings.  
'Underwear . . . chest . . . not so flat . . . do something cool!  
Do something cool!'

He could only let out a throaty, "I see."

Maka laughed again and let him go. She sat back and  
looked at the scar that had haunted her for so long. She  
traced it with her right pointer finger, following the cross at  
each stitch as she worked her way down. After a  
seemingly long time, she looked back up to him.

Soul hesitantly moved his hand up to Maka's hair and  
stroked the long strands that hung over her shoulder.  
Then, slowly, the two leaned in for a kiss. It was timid and  
uncertain, but the feel gradually became more and more  
familiar to them. When they finished, Maka moved down  
and followed the scar again, this time with her soft kisses  
that made Soul nervous as she reached his waist.

When she sat back up, Soul pulled her close and the two  
fell to their sides together.

When Blair peeked in through the slit in the door a few  
minutes later her fur turned a deep red. After watching for  
only a few seconds, her hips began softly thrusting as her  
breaths became shorter and shallower. It was only Maka's  
soft and sudden moan that snapped the cat out of her  
trance and she bounded down the hall where she could  
satisfy a sudden urge in peace.

"I love you, Soul. I really love you."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

Author's note:

Yes, I know that Maka held her Soul while she was in the madness and not Soul Eater's. I actually went back to watch that scene after I wrote this because I was not sure. However, since this is a work of fiction, I decided to keep it in since it made for a nice moment between the two.


	7. Morning

The bright morning rays fell across Soul's face causing him  
to greet the new day with squinted eyes. He gradually  
became aware of the girl on top of him. She was warm and  
her skin was smooth and soft to his touch. Her petite  
frame barely pushed down on him as she rested there all  
night. He smiled and breathed in her sweet scent while he  
gave her sleeping form a gentle hug.

"Good morning, Soul," Maka said in a happy exhale.

"I thought you were asleep."

"I thought you'd be up sooner."

"I thought one of you'd have breakfast ready by now."

The sudden intrusion from their live-in house pet/sex  
symbol caused them both to jump. She was perched on  
Soul's desk, her tail playfully moving from left to right as  
she watched the two.

"Blair! How long have you been there?" Soul yelled.

"I just got in."

"Did you see anything?" Maka interrogated.

"I won't talk about who saw what or who pleasured  
herself to the sound of whom, but I will tell you what I  
_don't_ see."

"What?"

"A wrapper."

She held up her right forepaw and pointed one little  
"finger" as she moved it in a small circle.

"Pum-pum-pumpkin-pum-pumpkin," she incanted.

A sudden small puff of grey smoke revealed a square foil  
packet with her familiar jack-o-lantern symbol on it. It  
floated down to the bed next to them.

The meister and her weapon both blushed.

"Now, I'm not saying that one of you has a disease or  
anything. I just think it would be tough for a certain girlie  
to turn a certain cutie into a death scythe if she had a  
pregnant belly."

"We didn't use one last night," the girl said, slightly  
worried.

"Well, you'll use one from now on." Blair transformed into  
her human form, this time a little more appropriately  
dressed, and leaned in to Maka. "Word would get around if  
you two started buying these, so, if you let me play with  
your little boyfriend every now and then, I'll make these for  
you for free."

"NO WAY! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?" Maka yelled.

"I just want him for a little while," Blair replied cheerfully,  
wrapping herself around Soul's right arm.

"Let go of him! I'm not going to let you do that! Soul, do  
something about this!"

Both of Soul's nostrils were bleeding as the two girls pulled  
him back and forth.

"Not . . . cool . . . at all," he groaned.

After some fighting Soul managed to get out of the bed  
and dressed. He and Maka both knew the cupboards were  
bare so he decided to venture out, leaving the woman and  
cat in his life to work out their differences.

Blair changed forms again and jumped next to Maka.

"I am not sharing him with you!"

"Enough of that. Now that he's gone we can talk."

She looked up at her caretaker with eager eyes.

"Was it good? Did you like it? Are you two a couple now or  
was that just for fun?"

Maka was totally unprepared for the sudden barrage of girl  
talk.

"I . . . I don't know. I mean . . . I liked it and . . . well . . . I  
guess we're a couple."

"Did the barbs hurt?"

"The what?"

"The barbs, you know, on the end of his happy toy."

Maka was speechless as she stared back with wide eyes  
at the grinning feline. Silently, she picked up the cat and  
placed her in her lap so she could pet her head.

"I think I need to explain some things to you."


	8. Mourning

Night had fallen and the darkness pawed at the edges  
where the light from the candles held the shadows at bay.

Maka lay in her bed, the blankets drawn around her and  
her pillows helping to prop her up. Her thin, wrinkled hands  
held one of her favorite books. She squinted her failing  
eyes to read the familiar passages for what she knew  
would be the last time.

It was then that a cloaked figure appeared at her side,  
causing all but one candle to flicker and die out.

She looked up to his masked face and smiled.

"Lord Death . . . I knew you'd be here soon," she said in a  
dry, raspy voice.

He said nothing.

"And Soul . . . I'm glad you're here too," Maka grinned from  
ear to ear.

"Hey," Soul began, unsure of how to greet the girl he had  
known for so long. While his age had been slowed so he  
could serve Death for as long as he was needed, Maka  
showed signs of her years.

He held her hand. The two said nothing but reveled in the  
other's touch for a few moments.

Their connection was broken when the dark figure placed a  
hand on Soul's shoulder.

"I guess it's time," he said with a smile.

"Yes, I guess it is," she said back, a cheerful smile on her  
face as well.

Soul Eater transformed into a scythe and the mysterious  
figure slowly lowered the point to Maka's right shoulder.

On its way, Maka reached up and touched the cold metal  
along the side of the weapon.

"My old blade," she whispered to herself. "Please," she  
said to the figure, "Do it slowly."

He touched the point to her skin and pushed down. He  
slowly dragged the scythe down and across her chest just  
as she asked before reaching in to the gash and retrieving  
a very small but very strong soul. His hand disappeared  
with it into his cloak where he deposited it in a hidden  
pocket. With that, the final small flame flickered and  
vanished into the night air.

When he returned to the Death Room, Soul transformed  
from his weapon form.

"Thank you," he said to the reaper who was currently  
removing his mask to reveal the three connected rings  
around his head. "Thank you for letting me be the one you  
used to harvest her."

"I can't think of any other weapon suited for such a task,"  
he replied as he pulled the small soul from his cloak.

He scooped a large handful of dirt from his graveyard and  
deposited the soul there. He patted the soil into place and  
decorated the spot with a small, plain, and perfectly  
symmetrical cross.


End file.
